¿Qué es para el almuerzo?

Ashley and I helped prepare this fresh and delicious meal for lunch today! We started by hollowing out a tomato to create a small bowl. We placed the bowl on a “bed” of lettuce soaked in lemon juice. The tomato was filled with a mixture of tuna, olive oil, salt, and lemon juice. The tuna here has a much more “fishy” taste than canned tuna back home, and it was a little on the strong side, but still good. Sides were beans mixed with onions and cilantro and sliced potatoes cooked in cilantro. Lemon slices garnished the meal adding an even fresher taste. Since it’s something I can actually cook, I’m excited to go back and make this dish at home!

A Typical Adventure in Los Andes

Gustavo has been promising us all summer that he’d take us to the Andes Mountains, and today was finally the day! The Andes Mountains run along the West coast of South America and span the entire continent from North to South. They are one of the tallest ranges in the world. I have been waiting the entire trip to have an adventure in the Andes, and today did not disappoint. We were planning on leaving at ten this morning, but in typical Chilean fashion it was about 10:30 by the time we were all packed into the car and ready to leave. Unsure of what kind of weather to expect, I dressed in jeans with leggings underneath, two thermal shirts and a jacket underneath my Columbia coat, and two pairs of socks with my rain boots. The trip to the mountains took longer than I thought. An hour and a half trip turned into a three hour trip due to traffic (apparently today was a Catholic holiday so people were headed to one of the towns in the mountains for a celebration). Much of the scenery reminded me of driving through the mountains in Colorado. Lots of rocks and cacti and pine trees and a beautiful river running through. The small towns along the road were very interesting to look at. Some of the stores were mainly built for tourists, but they still contained interesting craft items and food for sale. We turned off of the main road onto a gravel road, which at this point was mainly mud and puddles from the rain a few days ago. Not being a big fan of heights, this drive made me quite anxious. The muddy road was very narrow and always along the edge of a cliff with sharp turns and the occasional rock-slide. It was a recipe for the disaster, so I found myself constantly praying as we made our ascent up the mountain. Many cars had pulled off to the side of the road where there was a lot of flat surface. Families go up to the mountains to grill and play in the snow and just spend time together. The further up the mountain we went, the more of these little “camps” of people we saw. Finally we got to where it was getting difficult to go any further, so we decided to stop at this big open spot where there were lots of these old abandoned buildings. Gustavo said that they are there to be storm shelters for anyone working up in the mountains or people who might get stuck up there. They were fun to explore and climb on. There was a big sign that gave instructions about what to do in case of a volcano…and it was in Spanish so it seemed as if I would not be making it out alive if the volcano erupted. There are a lot of live volcanoes throughout the Andes range in Chile. We explored the buildings and played in the snow for awhile: snowball fights and snowman building were a must. It was so crazy thinking that I was playing in snow in the middle of July. I’ve never been a big fan of snow or winter, but I have to admit that it was pretty cool to be enjoying winter time in the Andes mountains! Madeline had brought instant ramen for all of us for lunch, and two canisters of hot water, so we warmed up a bit as we ate before we had to pack back into the car and head home. Driving down the mountain was even more of a feat than making our way up, because the side going down ran right along the ledges. A few spots we had to wait until no oncoming traffic was coming, because there wasn’t enough room for two cars side-by-side. Traffic was just as bad on our way down, so it took another three hours to make our way home again. On the way down the mountain we passed a farm, and we got to look around and see all the animals. I can’t imagine living the way the people do up in the mountains. Their houses are tiny little shacks and don’t seem to be built with more than tin sheets or thin panels of wood. That probably explains all of the animal pelts the farm had hanging outside: animal fur must be the only way to keep warm! Many of the farms don’t have actual fences to keep all of their animals in, and we saw lots of horses, goats, and sheep running around free. They must know where the majority of their food comes from because it didn’t seem like farmers had a problem keeping the animals to stay at least semi-close to home. The smell of the farm reminded me of my goats back home and also brought back terrible memories of when I used to clean out the barn and animal pens when I was younger. I don’t miss that at all! But we did have a great time petting the goats and taking pictures with them. The sun was rapidly disappearing so we had to be on our way. We stopped on the way back to buy bread, and it was fresh from the oven! Not many things taste better than oven-fresh bread that seems to just melt in your mouth. And the cookies we got were pretty good too! When we finally made it home around 8pm, I was exhausted, wet, and freezing cold. But it was all worth it! Our trip to the Andes Mountains was probably one of my favorite adventures in Chile. Hopefully our vacation to the mountains down south this next week will be just as adventure-filled!

Funeral Things

It doesn’t matter what culture you are in, funerals are never fun experiences. They are personal and sensitive matters for the family and loved ones of the deceased, and that being said, I was unsure of whether I wanted to write a blog post about this or not. I didn’t want to feel as if I were exploiting the personal affairs of my host-family, but since I have promised to share about my experiences in Chile, I want to write about my past weekend. For the past few weeks, I have known that the step-grandmother of my host-father has been sick. She’s been suffering from colon cancer and was moved to her home to spend her last days with her family. I never had the privilege of meeting her, but considering the family she inspired and raised, I know she must have been an amazing person. On Saturday night, Madeline informed us that she had passed away. I said a prayer for her soul and for the family, knowing the relief they must have felt that she would no longer be suffering. On Sunday, Madeline asked if we would like to go to her visitation. I had a lot of hesitation about going, since I hadn’t met the woman and I felt like I would be trespassing on the family’s privacy. However, I am here to live as the family lives (and I admit, I had a bit of curiosity as to how funerals here were handled) and so in the end I decided to go. It was just like the visitations I had been to before: the casket sitting in the front of the room, surrounded by flowers and loved ones. I was introduced to a few members of the extended family, and then eventually I decided to head out to the balcony with the family out there. Like many of the visitations I have been to before, this one was open casket. These caskets are different than ones in the US, because with an open-casket here, the actual casket is still closed with only a window on top for you to view inside. After spending a few hours chatting with the family, we finally headed home. Monday morning I woke up and again, Madeline asked if I would like to accompany them to the funeral that day. Feeling that my presence at the visitation had been welcome, I decided that it was alright if I went to the funeral as well. Having been the first Catholic funeral service I attended, and being in a Hispanic culture, I was surprised by how similar the service was to ones back in the US. The service was held at the chapel in the cemetery that Ashley and I had visited before. When the hearse pulled up to the cemetery, the family all went to grab the flowers out of the back and carry them into the church. I felt uncomfortable offering to help carry flowers, but much to my surprise some were shoved into my hands, so I carried them into the church anyway. When everything was set up inside the church, the service began. There was a man with a guitar who led the congregation in songs, and the preacher said some words and did communion. For a Catholic service, I was surprised by how short the service was. Next, everyone went outside for the burial service. The casket was wheeled to the spot, and all of the family and friends followed it. In common funeral fashion, it was raining, and I was unprepared for the rain. By the end of the burial service I looked like a wet dog. Instead of being put into the ground, many of the graves here in Chile are above ground. In the particular spot where this burial took place, it was a large wall with small slots for the caskets to be slid in. After sliding in the casket, they shoved all of the flowers in the opening until the stone was ready, and put the remaining flowers below on a ladder. Gustavo’s step-father said a few words about his mother, and some other family members sang a song. I didn’t understand a lot of the service, since it was in Spanish, but it truly was a beautiful service and I was blessed they allowed me to take part.

Always Be Prepared

“God, where will your spirit lead today? Help me be fully awake and ready to respond. Grant me courage to risk something new and become a blessing of your love and peace. Amen.”

During our World Service Corps training, each of us received a little card containing that prayer. We received this card after a seminar on Leading Congregations in Mission. We were encouraged to pray this prayer every morning and really invite God to work through us during that day. I keep this card sitting on my dresser so I can see it every morning when I get dressed. I don’t always pray this exact prayer, but I usually try and invite the spirit to guide me throughout the day and allow me to be open to wherever I am being lead. When I walked into the sanctuary last Sunday, I assumed that the church service would be like every other Sunday. The services are pretty routine: Sister Nancy welcomes everyone, someone opens with a prayer, we sing a song or two, Renee gives a mini sermon, we sing another song, Gustavo gives a mini sermon, we sing another song or two, and then there’s a closing prayer. The only exception this Sunday was communion, which was to be taken after Gustavo shared his words. Things were shaken up a bit when Gustavo got up to speak, but instead of him sharing, he invited a couple up to speak who were new to the congregation in the past month, and had come here from Colombia. They shared a little bit about their lives and how they got to be in this church (all in Spanish of course, so I didn’t really catch everything). When they sat down, Gustavo went back up front and then looked at me. He said, “Bailey, why don’t you come up here?” Not sure what exactly I was going to do, I hesitantly made my way to the front. That’s when he asked, “Why don’t you share with the congregation your experiences here in Chile?… In Spanish.” Wait…what?! My Spanish is only basic conversational Spanish, and never have I learned church-related words. I wasn’t even sure where to begin in English, let alone in Spanish! After struggling in Spanish for a few minutes, Gustavo finally took pity on me and said I could do the rest in English, and he would translate for the congregation. I shared with them how I really see them living out the love of Christ here. Everyone cares so much about the rights of all people in this society, and they all work to make a difference for people they don’t even know in a way that I have never seen back in the United States. I talked about the picture of Jesus on a motorcycle hanging in the back of the church (which I wrote about in one of my first blog posts) and how it was kind of weird to me the first time I saw it, because I have never pictured Jesus as a common guy-next-door type. But if we are supposed to be seeing the God in other people, and supposed to be living our own lives in a Christ-like way, then this man on a motorcycle, or the shopkeeper down the street, or the woman feeding the stray dog on the corner, are all how we should be picturing Jesus. So after an awkward 5 minutes up front, trying to share my experience in two different languages all while being put on the spot, I finally sat down and enjoyed the rest of the service. My testimony was a little awkward and jumbled, but it felt good to be used in the service and help minister to others. My real joy came later that afternoon when I was telling my mother about my testimony at church. She was disappointed that I felt like I hadn’t seen the same type of caring for others back in the states as I see here, but we talked about how the political situations in the two countries are different, and so people in the US don’t have the same opportunities to fight for social justice as they have here in Chile. My mother shared with me how she’s come to find in her experiences lately that when she prays for opportunities to share Christ with others, they’re often in unexpected times and she is put on the spot. Paul says that we should always be prepared, because we never know when we’re going to need to share the joy of Jesus Christ with others. My time in Chile has taught me that injustices are going on in the word every day, and I have always thought before that I could never really make a difference with any of it, but if everyone thought that way, then nothing would ever be accomplished. We are called to go out into the word and share the love of God. What better way to provide examples of this love than helping people achieve better living conditions and opportunities to improve their lives? God is constantly giving us opportunities, we just have to recognize them and jump in. The rewards and changes you see in your own life will be worth it.

Those Once in a Lifetime Things

When Ashley and I woke up Saturday morning, Gustavo told us that he had a dinner to go to that night, and that we were welcome to tag along if we wanted. Always eager for an adventure, we of course said yes. We were even happier with our decision when we found out that it was a seafood dinner! He told us that the dinner would be at the tent that I had been to a few times before. If you haven’t heard about the tent yet, it’s an old circus tent that one of the surrounding neighborhoods uses to have meetings with people seeking to make a difference and improve their community. Last time I was there, some of the people were painting a new mural on a big wall inside. I didn’t get to see the finished product last time, so I was happy that I could finally see what it looked like! On the drive over, I had an awkward moment… We were discussing the family, and if you know about Latino families, you know that their families are very close. Often times, I large portion of the family will be living in the same household. My host-family is pretty similar. I apparently was confused about some of the relationships in this family, because we started talking about this person, who I thought at first was married to one of the cousins, but then Ashley told me that they were just dating and he really doesn’t live here, and come to find out he is the brother of the cousin, and he does live here with her. Gustavo had a good laugh when he found out what I thought! When we arrived at the tent, we learned that the dinner was a fundraiser dinner (although we still haven’t figured out exactly what the cause was). We bought our tickets and chose seats at one of the tables closest to the stage. It was dark inside the tent, so all of the tables had a candle on them, accompanied by a basket of bread and some salsa. Our dinner for the night was a bowl of soup filled with a giant bag of steamed seafood, chicken, and ham that we opened up and put in our soup. It was delicious! And then the live music started. We only stayed for a few of the acts, but they had all kinds of performers: Some traditional Chilean music played by a flute/recorder thing and a small guitar, another guy played some more contemporary music that he wrote, and we left just as the next act was starting. Surprisingly, I wasn’t cold the entire time I was at this dinner (even though there wasn’t any heat inside the tent, except for a few small fires). I’m not sure if it was the warm seafood soup that kept me warm, or just the excitement of the night, but luckily the cold night air did not ruin my experience! And what an experience it was! A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be able to eat a candlelight seafood meal in an abandoned circus tent while watching live-Chilean music! I can’t get enough of the surprises this country is constantly throwing at me!

One Big Happy Family

I have grown up in the Community of Christ church, and it has always been a fact to me that Community of Christ members are some of the nicest people you will ever meet. We have congregations all over the world, and no matter what congregation you might choose to attend on Sunday, they will welcome you as if you are part of their family. That’s one of the reasons I love this church: I have such an awesome church family. When my brother and I moved away for college, my parents minds were more at ease because they knew that in our college towns we had Community of Christ congregations that were there to welcome us and take care of us. In the past, when on family vacations, my family would occasionally go to a local congregation (if there was one nearby) and we always felt right at home. While I have always felt the love of my church in the United States, I wasn’t sure if the church would have the same feel in other countries. Are congregations in other countries just as loving as the ones in the US? What an awesome surprise when I got to Chile and discovered that the family I was going to be living with for the next two months was just as loving as the church family I left behind in Warrensburg, MO! I immediately felt right at home with my host-family, as if I had known them for years! Whether it is in English or Spanish, I feel completely comfortable joking around with my host-family, or even laughing at some silly things they do (and by the number of times they have laughed at me, I know they feel comfortable with me as well!). Madeline (my host-mom) has been just like a mother, always trying to make sure Ashley and I are comfortable and well-fed. If I’m sick, the family is always worried and giving me medicine to help me get better. And the other members of the congregation are just as loving toward me on Sundays whenever they see me! One older couple, Ernesto and Nancy, have remembered mine and Ashley’s names from the start, and always come say hi and ask how we are doing whenever they see us. Gustavo will even give us “dad” talks sometimes, about my future job and my relationship with Conner. He cares about mine and Ashley’s lives in the same way that our own father’s do, and only wants the best for us. The reputation I have always thought the Community of Christ church had did not fail me, even in a foreign country! While the people might speak a different language, they still show Christ’s love in the same way as my church family back home. No matter where I travel, I know I’ll always have a church family in the Community of Christ.

Finding My Calling

I’ve been meaning to post something new for awhile, but I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to talk about. We have been doing a lot since my last update, but nothing seemed worthy of writing an entire post about. Sunday afternoon, after church, we crammed 9 people into a vehicle with 5 seats and went on an hour and a half road trip to San Antonio, one of the major port cities in Chile. Smelling the salty air was amazing – even if it was freezing. We walked around the market on the pier for a bit, where they had lots of fresh seafood. We went on a boat tour of the harbor (but the tour was given in Spanish, so I just looked out at the ocean the whole time). We got to eat some fresh seafood and Ashley and I got the fro-yo we’d been wanting since we arrived, so all in all I’d say the trip was pretty successful. Tuesday morning we woke up bright and early to Skype with my mission center’s Sr/Jr-high church camp. We talked to them for about 15 minutes and told them some things about the culture here and World Service Corps, and then we answered a few of their questions. We were supposed to teach an English class at a local secondary school today, but apparently on rainy days, kids just don’t show up to school. So the school director called and said that there was no reason to go since no kids were there. I guess we’ll be starting tomorrow instead! So that’s been the past couple days in a nutshell. Now to get down to the real meat of this blog post. I’ve hinted in some of my past blog posts that I’ve been struggling with finding my purpose of being here. When I applied for WSC, I felt like I had a strong calling to spend my summer in another country doing the work of the Lord. Since I’ve been here, I’ve learned a lot about the culture, language, and social struggles of the people, but I haven’t felt like I’ve done much for the church. We have church every Sunday and occasionally Bible study on Wednesday nights, but it’s not the same as my experience with the church back home. I played the piano for one of the church services, but other than that I haven’t ministered to the congregation at all. It’s really bothered me that I haven’t felt the fire that I wanted to feel while I was here, and I’ve been talking to some people back home about it. “Pray and make sure you’re opening yourself up to opportunities” is the advice I am usually given. So I’ve been doing lots of praying and thinking about it, and I think that maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way. While I haven’t heard amazing sermons or memorized Bible scriptures, I have seen how this culture cares about what happens to each other in a way that is very Jesus-like. Even though we don’t spend lots of time in church talking about Jesus, we go out into the world and live like Jesus. And really, when I interviewed for WSC, that is what I told them I wanted to do. I said I was tired of sitting in the pews every Sunday and hearing preachers say the same thing about loving each other and I just wanted to go out and live it! I decided that instead of worrying about having great experiences in church on Sunday mornings, I should focus more on showing Christ’s love on the street and in the activities I do here. This experience has also opened my eyes to the needs of people in other countries that I knew nothing about. And I realize that there is need in my own culture as well. I want to look into pursuing more of a career in educational reform and social issues or possibly a job doing ministry in the church somewhere. Since I also want to grow more in my knowledge of the Word of God, so that I can go out and live it, I have decided to start reading the Bible on my own. (I know this probably sounds like a normal thing to most people, but I’ve never had much of a habit of reading my scriptures). I randomly decided to start with reading 1 Corinthians. If anyone has any suggestions of what I should read next, please feel free to comment! I have enjoyed the time that I’ve spent reading and focusing myself. (Especially since my boyfriend has been away helping with a church camp for the past week, with no cell phone service, and I have had no one to talk to!) I am learning to find new things to do with my mind and I really think it’s going to benefit the rest of my time here. Sometimes you can’t sit around and wait for God to make things happen for you, but you have to do things on your own. And that’s good too. If I want a positive experience to come out of this trip, I will make it happen for myself and enjoy the last three weeks that I am here with these people in this country.

Rest In Peace

I never thought I’d find such peace surrounded by so many dead people. We recently visited two cemeteries here in Santiago, and they were two of the most beautiful places I have ever been to. I wish everyone was here with me, experiencing these things as well, because showing pictures and trying to describe what I saw just won’t do any of this justice. The cemeteries here are like miniature towns: they have streets that you can drive through, gardens, apartment buildings, and little houses. People are buried beneath you, all up around you, and sometimes even above you. And it stretches on for what seems like kilometers. Walking through the cemetery, I felt such a sense of wonder and awe. Some of the buildings and stones were just so beautiful, and others were plain and falling apart. I had a personal quest to find the oldest stone I could, and came up with one from the late 1700s. (I was also on a personal quest to find someone with my last name, but I failed at this. I guess Everhart’s had no interest in Chile up until I came around.) We went later in the evening when the sun was setting, and the most gorgeous sights were looking into buildings like the ones pictured here, that had stained glass windows on the other side, and seeing the little sunshine left shine through the stained glass and stand out beautifully against the darkness inside the building. I kept thinking how my mother would love all of the windows there (I took of pictures of some of them just for you, Mom!). Normally, I’m not one for cemeteries. They kind of freak me out. I’m just not a fan of dead people. But being surrounded by the beauty of this place brought such a calmness to me. I would love to be here in the summer. I would spend entire days in the cemetery wandering around and praying and writing. We’re definitely doing death wrong in the US!

One Step at a Time

This past Monday night, Gustavo was driving Ashley and I back to the house and telling us what we would be doing on Tuesday. He said that Tuesday was the national protest for teachers, and then he asked if we wanted to go to a protest with him in the morning. And of course we said yes! Living in the United States, I know what protests are. I’ve read about strikes and protests in history books, and even seen some on TV. But the strikes that take place in the United States are nothing like what goes on in Chile. (One afternoon we were with our host-sister downtown, when we came up from the subway, this awful smell started burning our noses. Annais said, “Do you smell that? That’s a bomb,” as if it’s completely normal for that to happen! Although I’m pretty sure she was talking about the tear gas that police spray on protesters, and not an actual bomb.) If you don’t know anything about Chilean history, they were under a dictatorship from 1973 until 1990. For 17 years people were oppressed and living under terrible conditions. Gustavo tells us that not much has changed since the dictatorship was demolished and a democratic government was put in place. We’ve witnessed firsthand the poor conditions in schools, neighborhoods, hospitals, and other public places. Protests seem to be a daily happening in Santiago, desperately trying to get enough attention from the government that actions have to be taken. It shocks me how the government can watch these happen every day and not try and make any changes.
So Tuesday morning we woke up earlier than usual just so we could make it to this protest. We get there and Gustavo introduces us to some people. It’s cold (if you haven’t figured it out yet from other blog posts, most buildings in Chile don’t have indoor heating systems) so we get some of the free coffee that’s there for protesters. We are told that if we see police, we need to run. Very comforting words to hear, considering our previous trouble with the law upon entering the country. Ashley and I are asked to help carry this giant banner for the protest, which we gladly do! Never in my life have I been part of something like this before. It was all really exciting! People had whistles and there were lots of people playing drums and carrying signs. A few police officers were there to escort us through the streets, stop traffic, and make sure that nothing got out of hand. All of the signs and chanting was in Spanish, so Ashley and I had difficulties understanding exactly what was going on. We thought that the protest was for teachers, but we weren’t sure exactly what about. As we march through the streets, I notice that there’s lots of people in our protest wearing scrubs, and that one of the big banners says St. Juan, which is a local hospital here. At this point, Ashley and I are pretty confused trying to figure out exactly what it is we are protesting (yes, we were those people who were at a protest we really knew nothing about). After it was all over, and we were walking back to the car, we decided to ask Gustavo just what that was all about. He then explains to us that it was for better healthcare conditions. He says that the national protest is for teachers, but the local one that we were doing was for healthcare. And then it all clicks and I feel really ridiculous that the entire time I thought I was standing up for the local teachers! The more I reflect on this experience, however, the more glad I am that I participated. The only hospital I have been in here was one downtown, which is most likely in a lot better condition than any of the hospitals in Conchali. And even the nice one downtown was nothing compared to the hospitals I’ve been inside in the US. The government here needs to invest more money in the healthcare of the people. Gustavo told us how many people have to wait months and even years for specialized operations because they don’t have specialists in the area to handle these needs. Hopefully our protest was a step in the right direction for these people! Later that day we went to another protest (two in one day, crazy I know!). I actually knew what this one was about. This was a protest to encourage the government to do more to help homeless people. A group of about 10 people set up a small hut down by the river and had been living there for about 3 weeks now. We had gone two weeks ago, but Ashley and I didn’t climb down in the river canal with them, because cops were there and we didn’t want to risk anything. Maybe we were just feeling daring this day, but we decided to climb on down! Every day, people come and join those living in the hut, and just spend the day there. This time when we went, there was a huge soccer game happening, and probably 50+ people were down there watching. The cops were there again this time, so I’m guessing there have been some there for the past 3 weeks, just making sure nothing happens. With all of the protests that happen each day, and all the cops that have to be at these protests, are there actually any cops worrying about the things that cops should be doing? Like drugs, gangs, violence, and other crime? Think about how much more effective the police force in Santiago would be if the government would better conditions for the people so the cops didn’t have to babysit protests all day! Life would be so much better for everyone! Anyway, I was really proud of myself for going down to join this people, because I had to climb down this sketchy wooden ladder. And I’m terrified of heights. And ladders. But I did it anyway because I wanted to be part of this movement and helping these people. They all deserve a life just as blessed as the life I have. It’s not fair to them that they live under a corrupt government and can’t even have the basic necessities of life filled so they can focus on other joys. The experiences of this day made me realize how much I should be working for social rights back in my own country as well. There are people back home that aren’t having their needs met either. How can we expect them to seek God and spiritual healing when they are fighting for food and shelter? As Christians, we should be concerned about the physical condition of people before we try and make them change their spiritual condition. One step at a time.

English Class Update

For the past two weeks Ashley and I have been teaching English classes here at the church. Our English classes are every Tuesday and Thursday night and last about an hour and a half. Having very little previous experience teaching English, and not having any curriculum to go off of, Ashley and I have been preparing all of our classes from scratch. The first class, we started with the basics. We went over the English alphabet and vowels, focusing on the various pronunciations we have. We taught numbers 1-100, personal pronouns, basic greetings, and conjugations for the verbs “to be” and “to have”.  We also taught members of the family and professions, then had some practice problems to put all of this information together into sentences. The second class was over question words and nouns: singular and plural nouns with both definite and indefinite articles. Then we did days of the week, seasons, months, and telling time.  Even though we begin each class with a review from the past class, we decided to use our 3rd class as a review of the first week. We felt like we had been pushing lots of information at everyone, and we wanted to make sure they were really comprehending it all. Our fourth class we went over verbs in simple present tense. We taught them part of the body, which so far has been one of our favorite lessons, because we sang “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.” We finished up the class with some common English slang (they had been asking for this since we started). Tonight we will be started our third week of classes, and I think they are going really well! We mainly have young adults in our class, but a lot of our host-family sit in on our classes and practice their English as well. It’s fun to hear them using English words around the house, and helps me know that they’re actually learning and benefiting from our classes! During our first couple of days here in Chile, we visited two secondary schools. (I will have to post a separate blog about these schools, as the conditions were a huge culture shock for me). Gustavo was hoping to get us into these schools to help teach English classes to the students, but after the visits we hadn’t heard back from them at all. Today we went back to one of the schools and officially set up times and days for these classes. We’ll start next week and the classes will be Thursdays and Fridays, for about an hour each time. The students range from ages 14 to 18. I’m really excited to be working in the schools, as it will be a much different experience from teaching here at the church. Since teaching English as a Second Language is what I want to do with my life, I’m hoping this will give me more insight as to what the job will be like, and some experience and job knowledge to take with me into my future career. I’m really excited for next week!!!